On the Off Chance
by Benibara Hirano
Summary: On the off chance that she's not hallucinating, Maureen wants to know the how's and why's of what might be a devastating tragedy. And a Ravenclaw in pursuit of answers, as everyone knows, is a sight to behold.
1. Prologue

**Prologue.**

Peter Pettigrew has a brief moment of disconnect as the Sorting Hat roars "GRYFFINDOR!" and the lions roar at their table, cheering and clapping. The stern-faced witch who led the first years into the Great Hall, McGonagall, lifts the Hat from his head and he rises shakily to his feet, stumbling down the steps and somehow making his way to the Gryffindor table. Some of his new housemates shuffle to make room and he finds himself sitting in the next moment, still feeling dazed as he registers the events of the past few minutes.

Fact: he was Sorted into Gryffindor.

Fact: Gryffindor is the house of the brave, the noble.

Fact: the lions cheered for him when they realized he is one of their own.

Fact: the other first years Sorted before him are smiling at him when their eyes meet.

Peter is shaken out of his reverie as the Gryffindors roar their approval once more. He follows everyone's gazes, clapping automatically, and blinks at the boy strutting over to their table, chest puffed and head held high. One of the other first years, a good-looking boy with black hair and aristocratic features, whoops and immediately makes room for the newcomer, who grins widely as he slides into his seat.

The pang of envy, short but intense, Peter feels at the sight isn't unfamiliar. The boy - Potter - looks completely at ease, and already he has a close friend who cheers him on and saves seats for him. The constant feeling of inadequacy is an old friend, but he firmly shakes himself. He, too, belongs now: he was Sorted into the lion's pride and was received with just as much welcome as Potter and his friend, and he was saved a seat by his housemates as well. He has nothing to envy Potter for.

Straightening, Peter smiles genuinely as another girl is Sorted into his house and claps loudly, shuffling down the bench to make room. His gaze wanders the Hall as the Sorting dwindles to a close and, briefly, he locks eyes with a serious-looking girl at the Ravenclaw table.

Slowly, the girl lifts her goblet in a silent toast, and Peter nods back, reveling in the feeling of _belonging._

* * *

Seated amongst eagles, eleven-year-old Maureen Chance contemplates the fair-haired boy at the Gryffindor table, wondering what she'll see in the years to come.

* * *

 **a/n: long time no see! to those of you awaiting new chapters of _where we end_ and _mosaic_ , yikes. not sure when i'll pick those up, i'm having a bit of a dilemma with them. **

**but on the bright side, here's a new story. take it. i don't really know what to do with it, but take it anyway.**

 **more seriously, _on the off chance_ was born as i read more and more analyses on the character of peter pettigrew, and i realized that shit, yeah, he's actually a really fucking complex character. a terrible person, but a really interesting character. so i wanted to explore the complexity of peter pettigrew as he goes from fellow marauder and beloved friend to a cowardly traitor who coldly murdered 12 muggles and cut off his finger to implicate sirius black as the traitor. **

**so yeah. here's a thing. hope it'll be worth your while?**

 **-beni**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One.**

Peter rummages through his bag and silently swears as his fingers grasp nothing but loose parchment, books, his wand, and a broken quill. He looks up, hoping to catch the eyes of either James or Sirius or Remus, but they're seated near the front of the Hall while he's somewhere near the back. Their History of Magic exam, the last hurdle the third years must face in order to be truly done with the school year. End of the year exams are always brutal, and everyone's feeling wrung out at this point, but Peter's feeling confident enough for the History of Magic one - if only he could _find a damn quill._

He gives up on his bag and takes a furtive look around. As previously observed, his friends are all placed apart (likely the intention of the professors, as the penchant for mischief the four friends have is already common knowledge), and to his horror the proctoring professor is striding into the Hall, stacks of exams floating in her wake.

Peter looks around and wants to bang his head against the wall. To his left is a surly Slytherin he knows to be Bad News, to his right is Victoria Holt who's still furious with them all for the prank last Friday, and behind him is Magby from Hufflepuff, who's notorious for losing his quills. It's a minor miracle he has one, and Peter's not counting on him to have a spare.

That leaves the girl seated in front of him. Peter sighs and taps her shoulder.

Maureen Chance looks around with cool brown eyes. "Yes?"

"Do you have a spare quill I can borrow?" Peter gestures helplessly to his bag, abandoned in a heap at his feet. "I can't find mine anywhere."

The Ravenclaw witch lifts an eyebrow but nods, bending down to reach into her own bag where she pulls out not one but two quills, perfectly sharpened and in prime condition. Peter exhales gustily, relieved, and takes them with a quiet word of thanks. Chance turns back to face front and he places the quills on his desk just in time for the exams to float throughout the Hall, landing gently at each student's desk.

Peter rolls the quill between his fingers and skims over the test, grinning as he realizes he knows most of the answers to the questions. Dipping his quill into his inkwell, he starts.

He _aces_ that exam.

* * *

Peter is almost done packing his suitcase when he looks at his bedside drawer and sees the two quills he borrowed from Chance earlier that day. He forgot to give them back to her, though it wouldn't have mattered: she disappeared as soon as the tests were collected and he was summarily mobbed by his friends, who moaned about confusing Gregory the Goon with Guthrie the Good.

Now he looks at the time and jumps to his feet, dodging Sirius's legs as he flails under his bed, looking for his missing robes. Peter _does_ trip over Remus's shoes, which the taller boy takes with a sheepish smile.

"Where's the fire, Pete?" James asks, flicking through a Quidditch magazine as he smugly lords over the other boys scrambling to pack. James finished packing several days in advance and has clucked at them to do the same, and currently is rubbing it in their faces as they rush around to gather their belongings in time to catch the Hogwarts Express. Now he looks up curiously as Peter grabs the quills and heads to the door, wondering if he can catch Chance before she leaves the castle.

Peter pauses and looks down at his hand. "I forgot to return these to Maureen Chance when I borrowed them earlier, so I thought I'd do it now before I forget."

Sirius emerges from the black hole that is the space under his bed, dusty and cranky. "Who cares about a few quills? I bet she doesn't even remember letting you borrow them. Just keep them, Peter."

And it's not new or unusual, the casual cruelty Sirius wields unintentionally at times. Objectively he knows that Sirius didn't mean to imply that Peter wouldn't even register as someone of note in someone's mind, but it doesn't help the sting.

Remus frowns at Sirius. "Chance doesn't seem like the type to forget much of anything, Sirius. She might be looking for those quills." He looks at Peter and makes a shooing motion. "Just be sure to make it back soon, though I'm confident you'll find her and return before Sirius finds those dirty underwear of his."

Sirius swells up indignantly, and it's with a smile that Peter bounds down the stairs and out the Common Room.

* * *

Maureen escapes the third year girls' dormitory and sinks into one of the armchairs in the Common Room with a sigh of relief. Her dorm mates are in a state of utter panic as they leave the exams behind and realize that most of them had not even started to pack. It's a madhouse, and she's glad to be out of range of flying socks, robes, and brushes. Idly, she rubs the sore spot on her shoulder where Gillian accidentally hurled a textbook at her whilst aiming for her open trunk.

She's slipped into a lazy, content doze when someone approaches. A first year whose name she doesn't know lingers uncertainly, but upon seeing her awake he blurts, "Someone's here to see you."

Maureen blinks. She heads over to the entrance to the Ravenclaw Tower and is mildly surprised to find Peter Pettigrew on the other side of the door.

The boy thrusts his hand towards her. "Your quills," he says hastily. "Thank you for letting me borrow them earlier."

She takes them, bemused. "It was nothing," she replies. "Thank you for returning them; most people don't bother. I must have lost at least thirty quills this year alone."

Pettigrew shrugs and they stand in awkward silence, neither of them knowing what to do next. Eventually the boy coughs and points back the way he came, looking a bit embarrassed. "So I'll just - leave you to it. Er. Yes."

"Right," she nods. She watches him beat a hasty retreat and impulsively cups her mouth with one hand. "Have a good summer, Pettigrew!"

The Gryffindor stumbles and looks back at her. "Y-you too, Chance!"

And then he's gone, rounding a corner and vanishing from sight. Maureen lowers her hand and stares at it, wondering at the sudden impulse.

* * *

The thing is, Maureen is thirteen and thirty-five all at once. She's not keen on the details, it's been a long time, but she does know that she died and came back, only it wasn't to her former body, it was to that of a squalling infant. Maureen didn't think much of it at first, as her former life is hazy at best and her new family is the best. She grows up, squabbles with her sister, attends primary school like every other child in the country, and greets her eleventh birthday with only the excitement typical of a child waking up to expect presents and good food.

Except she got a bit more than that, specifically a stately woman in green robes with a letter written on parchment and addressed in a disturbingly accurate manner. (Miss Maureen Chance, The First Bedroom Left of the Stairs, 17 Airdale Street, Paddock Hill, Norfolk.) McGonagall then proceeded to explain that Maureen was a witch in the most literal sense of the word and, with parental approval, whisked the family off to Diagon Alley to go shopping for her school supplies.

It was bizarre.

Even stranger was the fact that Maureen recognized the professor's name and many other things. She remembered, vaguely a story that was tragic and uplifting, the story of a wizarding messiah. Maureen is a girl with considerable common sense, however, so she kept quiet on that front and enjoyed the experience for what it was.

And then came Hogwarts, and with it came several more names she recognized. Albus Dumbledore, obviously, as well as Severus Snape, Lily Evans, James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew.

Pettigrew the traitor. Pettigrew the rat. Pettigrew the coward.

Maureen does nothing. She's still half convinced she's hallucinated everything, from the supposed memories of a distant former life and the fantastical tale of who is essentially wizarding Jesus. And besides, from what she's seen everyone looks perfectly happy, so why make a mess of things unnecessarily?

Except she's a curious little thing and she can't help paying attention. Thank God Potter and his crew are such attention whores, otherwise people would definitely have side-eyed her for the way her attention always drifted to the four boys. Lily Evans is much easier to explain away her attention, as the two girls are friends and study partners, much to the displeasure of the greasy-haired Snape.

So yes, she sometimes finds herself staring at the others, but oddly her attention strays to Pettigrew the most. What on earth convinced him to turn traitor, when he looks happiest with his friends? Why did he betray them? Why was he described as such a pathetic, weak little thing, less human and more rodent?

Because she sees him perform well enough in classes. He's not on the same level as James Potter and Sirius Black or even Remus Lupin, of course, but by now it's widely acknowledged that those three are downright genii. But Pettigrew can hold his own, and he's not magically or academically pathetic in any way, comfortably in the upper half of the population, she'd say. She's not close enough to any of the four boys to be really certain, but Pettigrew can be witty and creative and clever just as his friends are. Potter, Black, and Lupin did not befriend him out of simple _pity_ , it's clear as day that they adore him as much as he adores them.

So why did this supposed betrayal happen? Betrayal that led to the death of one of his closest friends and incarcerated another? Why would Pettigrew grow up to be so abhorrent?

And, well. Regina and their parents always tell her that her curiosity will one day be the death of her. But the mystery of Peter Pettigrew is like an itch she can't scratch, and it's driving her mad because _she wants to know_. She wants to pick him apart and examine his mind and find a concrete explanation for why Peter Pettigrew grew up to be a traitor who was indirectly responsible for the fall of a Dark Lord and directly responsible for the rise of the same madman.

And a Ravenclaw in pursuit of answers, as everyone knows, is a sight to behold.

* * *

 **a/n: wow, look at that, a double update. you won't see this for like another ten years my friends.**

 **but regarding peter pettigrew and maureen chance... nope. this is not a peter/oc story, no ships. or at least, none with the marauders and maureen. i might sneak in some maureen/oc scenes later on, who even knows at this point.**

 **right now it's like 3am and why am i even up? actually? hope you enjoyed?**

 **-beni**


End file.
